Book Karma from the Grumpy Injun
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Thread: Book Karma from the Grumpy Injun

  1. #21
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    Quote Originally Posted by Davwingman View Post






    This is Larry & his Dad Linal, everyone called him POP .

    I first got to know them about 1975 or so. They used to travel together to all the gunshows & pot shoots all over central Ca. Pop had just lost his wife about that time & kinda needed some company. Besides being a not too good a shooter Pop would win a pot every once in a while. That is when the fun started.

    Pop always carried whiskey & he celebrated every win & every almost win. Even if he didn't come close to winning he would have a touch just to improve his aim. When he wasn't shooting he was telling stories & swapping guns. Nobody ever got the best of Pop when he traded & you never knew if his stories were lies or the truth.

    So we are driving to a gunshow one day & Pop starts talking about one of his brothers & then another & another. Finally I asked him how many kids was in his family. He said he had 19 brothers & sisters all together.
    He explained that his Dad had two wives & the first wife had 4 or five & the 2nd wife had the rest. He says the youngest was born when his Dad was 62 & he guessed there would have been more , but the guy that helped him off & on got killed in a car wreck.

    Turns out to be a true story!

    Pop died in 2009. Sure miss that old fart !!!

    More about Pop...

    You have probably known someone like Pop in your lifetime. He never went school much. He use to say he went to school about two blocks. Except for his army service in WWII he always lived & worked on a ranch or farm. He could tell some of the darndest stories you ever heard !

    When Iggy comes over that saying about tighter than a steers butt in fly season, it always reminds me what Pop said one time about me. He said I was so tight if someone drove a mustard seed up my butt it would break both hips !

    When Pop would drink whiskey he would always pinch his nose shut with one hand & then drink. I asked him why he did that & he says very slowly, Pop never done anything fast, the smell of whiskey makes my mouth water & I don't want nothing to dilute the taste .

    Pop hardly ever took a bath & lots of times you had to be upwind of him. One year we were at a shoot & it was about time for Pop's birthday. I asked Larry what the family was gonna do for Pop's birthday & he said they were gonna take him to the car wash ! Never phased Pop a bit !!! When he died Larry found 19 pairs of dirty Levi's in Pop's trailer. They were all filthy & had never been washed. Pop bought new ones when the set he was wearing got ripe.

    One of Pops favoritte sayings was If'n you don't like the way I look or smell , don't look & hold your breath.

    Pop was one of a kind!!
    Iggy and NWDave like this.

  2. #22
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    Like Dave says, I knew any number of hired hands and sheep herders just like Pop. They had two pairs of pants. One to work in until they wore out and another pair to wear to town to buy a new pair once a year.
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  3. #23
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    Quote Originally Posted by Davwingman View Post
    More about Pop...You have probably known someone like Pop in your lifetime. Pop was one of a kind!!
    i think I met him at a Tulsa Gun Show that I took my wife too.
    He told her and me that he had a terrible sexual dilemna.
    He claimd he was really a Lesbian trapped in a man's body.
    My wife hasn't been to a gun show since.
    Davwingman and Wiregrassguy like this.

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  5. #24
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    Back to the top. I know all you folks got some kind of story to tell & I'm anxious to hear em all...
    "He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment & buy one" Jesus - Luke 22:36

  6. #25
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    Quote Originally Posted by danc46 View Post
    i think I met him at a Tulsa Gun Show that I took my wife too.
    He told her and me that he had a terrible sexual dilemna.
    He claimd he was really a Lesbian trapped in a man's body.
    My wife hasn't been to a gun show since.

    Nope , that wasn't Pop, but it coulda been Larry. He now lives in the Wagner area & is usually found prowling a gunshow or pawnshop.

    BOLO for him, he is just like Pop...

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  7. #26
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    Unfortuntely or perhaps, fortunately (I'd have to swear you to the Secrets Act), I have no tales to relate so I'll just kick back and enjoy your contributions. What a great Christmas present to one and all. Please keep the recollections coming.
    "Lord I'm not askin' to go right now but, if you call me now, I pray my remains may be found in a pile of hot brass surrounded by my dead enemies!"

    "What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others."

    Retired Military: 1963-1967 U.S. Navy 1971-1987 U.S. Air Force

  8. #27
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    Here's one for you Bro, from the summer when I last visited the beach.

    Swimming it seems on California beaches for me has become too tenuous the last few years. As a teen I floated amongst the waves, literally competing with the ‘board bearers’ as I body-surfed and hurled rapidly and high upon the waves toward the beach at unreal speeds, always popping up with gusto! Fast forward 40+ years and it’s not so easy. Right off the bat I realize the water has obviously been imported from Iceland and is not native to California as was normal in my youth. Many items that have thrown themselves upon the beach now appear in the words of my youngest grandgal to be “YUCKY” and although I always offer up strong and reassuring words, I silently agree that this crap is indeed yucky….what the hell could possibly be out there in the water if I body surf now?

    Nope, I’m not getting rattled, the Navy taught me not be to influenced by frightened little girls, ever. It was made clear to always ignore the behavior of little girls, err, I mean Navy Officers when things don’t go right; like when the ice cream sadly melts and they feel obligated to stamp around and threaten to put everyone, including the refrigerators on report. No, I would never go that route, but…….

    After many deep breaths, beach flotsam ignored, grandgals reassured the never-ending-wave-producing-theater of death is not an issue, Papa unveils his swimming attire…. The extremely crowded beach suddenly has a lot of space as bystanders quickly move to shade, cool chest, chairs, some even grabbing their kid's sand-making/digging tools and burying their heads to avoid the sight, perfect! I take a final glance upon the ocean and inform all of my bunch I'm now going to face the raging sea I tamed so many years before, remove my top garment, dropping it gently into the sand, stretch, rotate my torso, do a few leg pulls and begin my very short journey to the waterside and revolving cold waves.

    BLEEET! What in the name of all things holy was that? It turns out to be the helpful whistle of the closest lifeguard as he informs me others are coming….others? Yes, others from the Scripps Institute and San Diego Beach police. Okay, let’s review, I’m not carrying anything made of glass, no alcoholic beverages (but was praying for one right about then), I had started no fires, used no illegal drugs, have never voted for a Democrat, and had not ignited any illegal fireworks, so WTH?

    It comes down to simple the fact that I am in fact a very good looking mammal….yes a mammal. Mammals have hair, but only in certain areas of their massive bodies, much as I do. Yepper, my bald head, inordinately hairy inner-nose and ears (regardless of regular clippings), a healthy amount of blubber, along with a furry back and chest, I apparently mimic just what female whales in mating season (that means HORNY) are looking for in male mates… Yes, this team of 'scientists' want to use me as whale bait!

    As flattering as such an offer might sound and I did greatly enjoy the conversation I had with the tall, blond, tanned, large breasted and 'leggy' scientist who explained how valuable I could be to their research, I declined her offer. It's not that I don't want to help further the research of nature, but it's been such a long time since I was on a date….what would I say to a female whale I just met; "Love what you've done with your blow-hole"? Heck, what language would I even use; English, Spanish, Tagalog, South Phoenix? Nope, I packed it in and have decided my 'deep sea' adventures going forward will be conducted in the backyard pool and I'm buying a new nose-hair trimmer just to be on the safe side!
    Last edited by Blackcloud2; 12-24-2013 at 05:55 PM.
    “So son, explain again exactly why there’s a stripper in your bedroom?"

  9. #28
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    Good Story BC2, Kind of gives a Whole New Meaning to "Humpback Whale"
    Trebor likes this.
    Whenever You Try To Make Something IDIOT PROOF.........They Will Just Make Better IDIOTS!
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  10. #29
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    Brings to mind a song in a movie way back when.. I think it was 20,000 leagues under the sea and Kirk Douglas sings..... Got a whale of a tale to tell you lads, a whale of a tale or two.. bout the flappin' fish and the gals I known on night like this with the moon above and I swear it's all true......
    RDLouks likes this.

  11. #30
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    OK, I’ll give it a shot.

    Here is a bit of back ground.

    We lived on the out skirts of a very friendly town, everyone waved or said hello. It was, and still is a friendly place. My older brother and I were just a tad rebellious, and creative as kids. This all took place around 1973 or so. I was in about the second or third grade, I’m not doing the math; it gives me a frying pan sized headache.

    We had recently ran off the last warden “baby sitter” my mother could find to govern and incarcerate us in my parents absence. We received scolding and reprimands which are not important, but did lead to the first and only family meeting we ever had. We pled our case about my brother being old and responsible enough to watch over me by himself. We were allowed to take care of ourselves until they got home from work for the next few probationary weeks. We were anticipating my father’s annual Christmas party and could not wait to be left alone on our first Friday night ever. This exetement was dashed the night of the party, because we got a verbal list of rules that had to be agreed to before they left.

    Here are the rules.
    NO:
    launching cats out of the chimney, flaming anything, bike riding, bows, slingshots, weapons of any kind, annoying the neighbors, fertilizer, laundry soap, tools of any type, ladders, garbage bag parachutes, any parachutes, nothing with a motor, gas or flammables period, throwing, propelling, or the above mentioned launching anything or anyone, property damage period would not be tolerated. This is the basic short list my dad ripped off seemingly from the top of his head.

    Do:
    Go to bed by 9, eat and drink in the kitchen no where else, when Dad finished Mom said keep it safe?......Keep it safe? My brother and I exchanged glances; we both saw this as an opening. So if it is not prohibited specifically and reasonably safe, we are good to go.

    The Story:
    WE had three stations on a black and white TV and only Christmas reruns to watch. We bored quickly and got to brain storming. These parties ran to the wee hours of the morning and they did not specify a AM or PM bed time. (One rule down). No one said we couldn’t go for a walk, which seemed safe but a bit anemic. (Second rule followed “Safety’). So to speed this up a bit, here are some of the items not specifically mentioned on the above list. Old wool Ike coat, full fledged honest to God Fudd hunting cap, a pair of dads old torn work jeans, Frankenstein Halloween mask, hiking boots & a plan.

    Hee… Hee….. We had our list checked it twice, none of it seemed real naughty nor nice, but most importantly did not violate any of the rules so far.

    The set up:
    We would cut kitty corner down the frozen creek to an intersection a few blocks from the house so we wouldn’t annoy the neighbors, (Third rule adhered to). This intersection was a cross road, but the east west road jogged south about twenty yards and picked up again. So, if you were heading east you came to a stop sign you had to turn right, south, for twenty yards along a hedge row to the next corner. At that corner you would turn left, pass a mercury light pole and continue east. I hid in the hedges to watch the show and verbally guide my brother who had limited vision in this get up.
    This was far from a busy street “One car every five or so minutes” and most of the traffic headed south at this time of night, Perfect. My brother donned the gear and improvised a cane from a branch we found on the way. He lifted the tall rounded collar on the coat and pulled down the ear flaps on the Fudd hat which nicely covered the missing sides of the mask. Picture a hobbling, decrepit, hunched over five foot tall old man with a cane at eight o’clock at night a few days before Christmas.

    The Execution:
    My brother would head south with traffic and as is customary in the area; a car would slow down in order to offer a ride to a helpless little old man. As the car would pull up next to him, I would say “NOW in a loud whisper”; my brother then would turn & lift his head enough for the mercury light to show a bit of mask from under the brim of his hat. The reoccurring comment I could make out from every car was a fairly loud OH SHIIIIIII. That is all I could make out before their voice was drowned out by the noise of a carburetor, manifolds and smoking tires. I miss big blocks & ethyl gas. I cannot ever remember if I ever heard the full second word. This went on for quite a while, scare a car, laugh for a few minutes, scare a car, and laugh a few minutes.

    Well we are setting up the next car but it just didn’t feel right. Being young I ignored the little voice and let the set up continue. The next car slows, they get the look, hit the gas to speed away tap the breaks, but can’t make the corner, & hit the gas again toward the far end of the block. As all of this is happening I realize, I know…. the sound of that motor… The tail lights …. IT’S MOM & DAD!!! I yell!!!! My brother can not see didely from behind the mask and called me a jerk for trying to scare him. I yell as I am getting up from behind the hedge row, you can wait right there for them. They will pick you up on their way back threw. I beet feet for home and get the screen door open just in time for my brother to hit the lock with the key. We blast into the house; really all of this part is just a blur. We got the lights on just before we saw the headlights coming down the road. Each of us is stripping off clothes, shoes, etc… stashing them in the front entry closet, turning on the TV & relocking the back door. WE both hit the couch which faces the front entry door and the adjacent TV. When first igniting the old tube set TV the screen is just an ever growing spot as it warms up. The spot is only a pin prick when dad locks up the tires in the driveway to avoid going threw the closed garage door. The spot is about an inch when we hear him fumbling with the back door lock. The spot is the size of a fist as the back door opens. The spot is the size of your head as they stumble in a rush threw the kitchen and Poof, full screen as they round the corner into the living room. We quit panting from the run and tried hard to look as innocent as possible.
    Dad came in first with mom at hot on his heals. We can hear the car is still running in the drive way, and at this point realize this may not turn out to be a good family Kodak moment. Dad looks, well let’s just say, soon to be childless. He heads for the entry closet? We never use that closet? How could he know???? Confused, scared, we both in stereo look to mom in corner of the living room for help, Nope, Nothing she is madder than Dad, & looks like she is ready for her close up head spin in the Exorcist scene. I figure I just as well die seeing it coming, and look toward Dad who is pulling our clothes and mask from the closet his ears were beat red. He spins on his heals takes, I swear one step to be within arms reach of the couch. He looks us each dead in the eye and drops it all at our feet without saying word one at this point. He stares us in the eye for a second or two. Then it happened, Dad looses it, Tears rolling laughter, I mean belly roil, I pee’d myself a bit laughter? My brother and I look at each other dumfounded, then look to mom, Nope she is still bent beyond measure, but Dad is laughing and as he is picking up our clothes and mask he tells us to get to bed before mom gets a hold of us.

    My dad thought is was the funniest thing, and spoke of it on many occasions for years to come, but mom to this day has still yet to find the humor in it.

    Dads side of the story.
    They left the party early to check on us and drop something off to a friends place just a mile or so south of our house. This is why they ended up coming by us. As they approached us, he says to mom, hey is that Mr. Arnold? Let’s give him a lift. They slow down, see the mask, mom freaked; dad spooked for a second then said, that’s the boys. Mom defended us; I guess she did not think we were able to commit good clean fun.
    Dad punched it to the four way stop at the end of the block and proceeds to do a donut in the intersection in order to make time and beat us back home. As he finished the 180 he sees lights come on behind him, thinking it was the local sheriff coming after him or us, he is forced to do the speed limit for several blocks back north to our street. The following car pulled into a drive way some where behind him as he turned onto our street. Once he lost the unknown tail he floors it down our street, but it cost him just enough time for us to beet him home.

    Woods.


 
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